Kiss the Girls
by j-san09
Summary: 3 years after the Cullen leave Bella is a sophomore at Howard University when she get kidnapped by a cunning criminal that has the whole town in fear. New Moon meets Kiss the Girls
1. Taken

"Shit," I mumbled to myself half asleep. It was times like these that I hated living in a sorority house full of sexually active girls.I mean, here is is 4:00AM and someone was loudly sneaking in. I tosses around in bed trying to find a comfortable positions. After tossing and turning for a few minutes I decided that I wasn't going to be able to fall back to sleep.

I slipped silently out of bed trying hard not to awake my roommate Claudia. I slipped out the door with easy and began making my way to the kitchen to get a drink.

WHAP!

Before I could even take a step down the stairs, a gloved hand came down hard over my mouth and nose. The owner of said hand followed his attack by quickly slamming my body into the floor, pinning my down with his weight.

Instantly the news stories about the recent murders and kidnapping flashed through my mind and I began to struggle hard, praying that this was one of my sorority sister's idea of a prank. My struggling was useless due to the fact that I'm very weak and he is very, very strong. While struggling I also realized that it was not a glove that he was presses up against my face. It was a damp cloth and he was practically suffocating me.

"Calm down, Isabella," his strong voice commanded to me, as the fuzziness in mt head began to spread. My fighting stilled and I felt myself begin to blackout.

***

I slowly forced my eyes open. After a few blinks my eyes slowly came into focus enabling me to see that I was in a strange dimly lit room. I slowly tried to sit up, but failed realizing how much pain I was in. My joints and muscles were still and I ached all over. I searched my memory for the event that could have lead me to this room and pain. Clearly it was not a one night stand that happened to so many of my sisters because I was fully clothed in my night gown and no one was in bed with me, thank God.

Suddenly, I remembered being slammed into the ground and almost suffocated by some savagely strong, masked assailant. But that event didn't account for the amount of pain I was felling right now. I must have been drugged. My head felt huge and bloated and I felt like a giant bruise. Looking around I began studying the room. The ceiling was low and it looked like it had been recently build or remodels, but was actually quite nice. The bed was real brass. There was a antique white dresser with brass handles. A beautiful vanity with a silver brush, comb, and mirror. The room was very nice other than the fact there there was no windows and there only seemed to be one exit; a huge, heavy, wooden door.

There was a small closet that was slightly ajar. The contents instantly made me sick. The closet was full of my clothes. He brought them here, just like he brought me to this place. I left like was was trapped in one of Dante's lower rings of hell. Using what was left of my little strength I pulled myself up into a sitting position. After telling myself to calm the fuck down I realized that the closes in the the closet weren't actually mine. The man the man that brought me here had went out a bought clothes that were just like mine. Glanced across the room and found that there were countless other thinks that had been bought for my benefit.

Who ever brought me here knew everything about me. My arms and legs felt like weights. For the first time since high school I felt myself wishing for Edward and missing him and the rest of the Cullen family.


	2. Welcome

I have no clue how much time had passed. I don't even know if it is day or night right now. I've slept. Awoke. Slept. Awoke. And slept some more. At least I was feeling better. No more heavy, achy muscles. Just drowsiness and confusion.

I glanced around the room for any sign that anyone else was in here while I was asleep. He was here. That thought almost made me physically sick. There is nothing creepier than having some psycho watch you sleep. Propped up on the bedside table was a handwritten letter addressed Dear Isabella. My hands trembled as I opened it to read it's contents.

I wanted you to read this, so that you understand me better, and also the rules of the house. This is probably the most important letter you'll ever receive, s read it carefully. And please take it very seriously.

No, I am not crazy or out of control. Actually, I'm quite the opposite. Apply your obviously high intelligence to the concept that I'm relatively sane, and that I know exactly what I want. Most people don't know what they want.

Do you Isabella? We'll talk about that later. It's a subject worthy of such lively and interesting discussion. Do you know what you want? Are you getting it? Why not? For the good of society? Whose society? Whose life are we living, anyway?

I won't pretend that you are happy to be here, so no false-sounding welcomes. No cellophaned basket of fresh fruit and champagne. As you will soon see, or have already, I've tried to make your stay as comfortable as possible. Which brings up an important point, perhaps the most important point of this first attempt at communication between us.

Your stay will be temporary. You will leave--if, Big If--you listen to what I tell you... so listen carefully, Isabella.

Are you listening now? Please listen, Isabella. Chase away the justifiable anger and the white noise in your head. I am not crazy or out of control.

That's the whole point: I am in control! See the distinction? f course you do. I know how bright you are. National merit scholar and all that.

It is important that you know how special you are to me. That is why you are completely safe here. It is also why you'll leave, eventually.

I picked you from thousands and thousands of women at my disposal, so to speak. I know, you're saying "lucky me." I know how funny and cynical you can be. I even know that laughter has gotten you through difficult times. I'm beginning to know you better than anyone has ever known you. Almost as well as you know yourself, Isabella.

Now for the bad parts. And Isabella, these next points are as important as any good news I've stated above.

These are the house rules, and they are to be strictly observed:

1. The most important rule: You must never try to escape--or you will be executed within hours, however painful that would be for both of us. Believe me, there is precedent for this. There can be no reprieve following an escape attempt.

2. You must never call out for help--I'll know, if you do--and you will be punished with facial and genital disfigurement.

You want to know more--you want to know everything at once. But it doesn't work that way. Don't bother trying to figure out where you are. You won't guess, and will only give yourself an unnecessary headache.

That's all for now. I've given you more than enough to think about. You are totally safe here. I love you more than you can imagine. I can't wait for us to talk, really talk.

Casanova

OMG! this guy is completely out of his mind. He loves me more than I can imagine. I began pacing back and forth, once again having to push away my thoughts, which kept drifting back to a certain family of vampires.

Note: The whole letter came from James Patterson, not me.


End file.
